Deathstroke's Kiss
by Aaron Ledgers
Summary: Sally Beth is a 'lower-than-average' girl who miraculously survived a twister that destroyed her town. However, she can't even mourn the death of her family because something's gone wrong with her body: these days, she's so cold she's almost numb. When she accidentally comes into contact with Raven, however, terrifying discoveries concerning Sally's emotions and the weather arise.
1. Prologue: Frozen

**Prologue: Frozen**

I... am cold.

Every part of me is just... cold.

Ever since last year, I can't seem to get warm... never, no matter what I wear or what I do. I've been told it's natural to feel depressed, but this doesn't feel like depression: it's something else. I mean, it's obvious that I've got a few good reasons to be depressed... last year, a tornado ripped through my neighborhood and tore my home to pieces.

We'd all been sleeping upstairs when it hit the house, too.

All I really remember is seeing the roof being ripped away from us, piece by piece, and then... there was _wind._ And I don't mean a wonderful spring breeze, either: I mean wind that was strong enough to rip the hair clean off my head and peel the skin from my bones. My sisters screamed for a second, I think, but I don't really know since we had all gone flying. I remember spinning, and I remember flipping around so much that I vomited... but then, everything went dark and I passed out from lack of air.

The next time I woke up, I was buried under piles of concrete and metal and my family was just... gone.

However, the thing I noticed the most was that my entire body was almost unbearably cold.

Which, I figured at the time, could have been normal since I'd somehow managed to survive being flung around like a rag doll. My body should have been feeling weird by all rights after such a horrifying experience, but I'd hoped it would pass after I recovered. It took the rescue trucks three days to get me out of there, but after witnessing the remains of what used to be my hometown, I honestly couldn't help but wonder how I hadn't been killed. My family, my home, my neighborhood, everything I held dear... all of it had been eradicated in under three minutes. There was literally nothing left... nothing, not a single house, a single building, or even a single tree. Everyone aside from me had been killed by the wind storm that had swept through in the middle of the night.

And yet, as horrible as I know it's going to sound, I had become too cold to care about any of it.

My body felt frozen: after the funeral for the people in my hometown, I had waved my old life goodbye and literally become a shivering wreck.

To this day, I can never wear anything but sweaters and winter clothes, even during the summer: my body will shake itself apart if I try.

Doctors started examining me when my temporary caretakers noticed my shakes, but they honestly couldn't say what was wrong with me. They all said that my body temperature was normal, and my nerves were miraculously undamaged, so there shouldn't have been a reason for me to feel cold. People eventually got creeped out thanks to the shivering, and as a result, I was thrust around from foster home to foster home, from hospital to hospital, and even from state to state. It got to the point where my caseworker finally said to hell with it and sent me to live in the warmest and driest state in the USA: California.

I can't deny it, either: this is literally the warmest and driest place I've ever lived in.

But sadly, even though I've lived here for a month already, I still can't seem to get warm.

My name is Sally Beth.

Yes, just Sally Beth.

I don't have a last name anymore: I gave that up when my parents passed on.

Truthfully, I'm not exactly a pretty girl, and I'm not exactly an intelligent girl... I suck at things like math and science, and I'm way below average as far as my looks are concerned. My eyebrows have never been trimmed, so they're kinda thick, and my hair is extremely curly so it's always all over the place. And don't even get me started on my skin color... God, if there's one thing I hate more than being cold, it's being an Italian brunette: my hair color doesn't match my skin tone. Especially since my eyes are like my mom's... a garishly bright blue-green that pops out in a rather unappealing manner.

Well, more accurately, it doesn't look appealing on _my_ face: Mom was drop-dead gorgeous, but I look more like a boy than a girl, so people kind of pick on me for it.

Doesn't help that I used to be a tomboy, either.

None of that really matters, though... I've changed since the storm.

I've become... well, cold.

Emotionally, I mean.

It's not the fact that I lost my whole family... or the fact that I've been alone ever since I was sent to the foster home.

It's not even the fact that I look like an oddly pigmented geek who can't even break the five-foot mark.

No, the part that I hate the most about my life isn't anything like that... it's the fact that everyone is always telling me to be grateful for what I was given. Or, at the very least, to feel content about being alive. You see, everything and everyone I loved was literally ripped out of my hands during the storm, and it was only through some sort of miracle that I ended up coming out of it with only a long scratch on my left arm and a bump on the head.

However, nobody knew how cold I'd felt after I'd woken up in the hospital.

Because, after all... I had woken up only to find that my entire family... my entire _town..._ was _dead._

What made it worse was the fact that everybody acted positive about the situation.

It was an event that changed my life forever.

After all, I'd only gotten a scratch and a bump after being in such a mind-blowing disaster: I'd apparently been tossed nearly three thousand feet into the sky and buried under a car and what used to be the highway interstate, so everyone said it was a miracle... but they were wrong: it wasn't a miracle, it was a god damned curse.

I didn't have it good at all.

I was cold... I was alone... so who could blame me for being practically emotionless?

When the nuns at the church told me that God made plans for a reason, they'd only given me another reason to hate my life.

They'd practically insinuated that God had murdered my family, which was too cruel: my family, my dreams, my future... everything I had wanted to protect was destroyed right in front of me. Afterwards I had been left behind, all alone, with nobody to turn to... I had been abandoned in a sea of seemingly friendly faces who didn't understand me or even really care. And since children living in foster homes don't exactly have a stable living environment, it's hard to make friends that last a long time.

Honestly, I've been passing through my high school days being unable to do much more than shiver and focus on how cold I am.

Especially today: some of the girls from class invited me to go have dinner with them at a local coffee shop, but I'd turned them down with the excuse that I was too cold to do it. I had been humiliated, on top of unfocused, since they'd all given me some strange looks. They hadn't understood, or maybe they thought I was a crackhead or something... Lord knows some people get that impression due to my constant shivering.

The moment I arrived back at the foster home, I swept off to my room without looking at the matrons behind the desk and grabbed a think blanket. Then I swept back down the hall and sprinted in the direction of the kitchen. The old ladies rolled their eyes and went back to work when I unlocked the door and ran inside: they'd seen it all before, after all.

After school, I never really socialize with anybody since I don't have the will or even the patience to deal with them.

I merely sit in the kitchen in front of the fireplace with a heater beside me.

Soon, a colorful fire was blazing in front of me with the mahogany wood underneath the flames turning coal black. With a quick flick of my wrist, I turned the heater on full blast, but as usual, the warmth eluded me, dancing just out of my reach. My body continued shivering, shaking terribly with the cold. After a few minutes, the head chef walked in and put her hands on her hips, clucking her tongue. Miss Figgins was a chubby black woman who spoke in a thick southern accent, but she's actually one of the sweetest people I've ever met.

"I don't get how you be so cold all the time, Sally," she drawled, puttering over to the cabinets and pulling out a few giant pots. "It's ninety five degrees outside right now, isn't it? Why you wearing those sweaters and wrapping yourself up in a blanket? And why you always sitting in front of the fire?"

"Because I'm cold," I droned, scooting closer to the fire and shrinking into my blanket like a turtle. "I can't get warm unless I'm right here."

"Oh, Lordy, you picking on me?" the black woman chuckled, rolling her eyes. "It's hot as a chilli pepper in here!"

"Maybe to you," I muttered in a monotone, shivering and closing my eyes. "Sometimes I wish I could jump in the fire so I could be warm."

The woman instantly halted and stared at me, but I didn't really care that she looked a bit startled: I was serious.

I just wanted to be warm. That's all.

"Chile, you really worry me," she asked, grabbing a newspaper off the counter before pulling up a chair and sitting down beside me. "You really wanna burn yourself?"

"No, I just wanna be warm," I complained, giving her a sour look when she started reading the paper. "I can't get my body to warm up!"

"Well, eat more then, chile!" Miss Figgins sighed, giving me a firm expression when my eyes became half-lidded with sarcasm. "Don't you give me that look! You gotta eat a lotta food and get some fat on those bones if ya wanna be warm! You ain't nothin' but a stick, darlin', and that ain't a good thing."

I scowled since she was sort of correct: I was actually fairly small for a fifteen-year-old girl.

At four feet and six inches, I literally only weighed ninety-six pounds soaking wet.

"I'll eat myself silly if it'll warm me up," I drawled, snuggling into the blanket in an attempt to get more comfortable. "Are you sure I should, though?"

"Of course!" the black woman chuckled, reading the paper with a soft smile; however, after a moment, her smile faded and she sighed. "Well, looks like those Titan vigilantes are at it again... but Lordy, they took out a group of robbers by themselves!"

"Eh? You mean the Teen Titans?" I asked, glancing at her with blank blue eyes. "Last week, someone at school was making a ruckus over that group. She says she actually saw two of them flying in the sky, but that's just crazy. People can't fly."

"Oh, Chile, they can do a lot more than just fly," Miss Figgins chuckled, shaking her head with a quirked eyebrow as she continued reading. "Still, for a group of kids livin' in a T-shaped tower, they sure do help the police a lot."

"Eeeeh?" I mumbled, only halfway listening to her. "That's interesting."

"Well, I gotta lotta work to do," the black woman sighed, folding the newspaper and setting it on the counter; then she patted my curls and headed off for the kitchen entrance. "I'll be back in ten minutes with some groceries. Remember, Chile, eat a lotta food and maybe that cold feelin' will go away."

With that, Miss Figgins left the kitchen and I was alone, like I usually was.

However, after she was gone, my eyes fixated on the fire in front of me.

It was radiating pure warmth... and even though my body sort of felt it, I really just didn't. The warmth of the flames wasn't even skin-deep: it refused to seep into my skin, my bones, or even my soul. After a moment, I started inching ever closer to the mesmerizing flames, longing for the end of the coldness inside me, craving for complete warmth. I was cold, so bitterly cold, that I couldn't do anything but reach for the impossible.

Before I could process what I was doing, my quivering hand slipped out of the shelter of the blanket and started moving towards the fire.

I wanted―needed―to be warm... but reason stopped my hand.

I needed my hand for my future in music: despite being unattractive, I'm actually really good at artsy stuff... such as playing the violin and drawing. When I wasn't feeling musically inclined or doing schoolwork, I sketched and painted portraits of scenery, buildings, anything that caught my eye. My hand was my livelihood... but logic was fighting a losing battle. The passion for art and music, which once burned brightly in my heart, had been overshadowed by my desire for warmth a long time ago.

My hand slowly inched toward the fire, towards the hope of warmth.

However, when it touched the fire... for a long moment, I felt absolutely nothing.

So I eased my whole arm into the dancing swirls of red and orange.

Then... for the first time in years... my body registered something other than the numbing coldness.

Heat.

But an icy heat, sharp with pain.

It seared into my arm, my flesh roasting alive, the heat of the frigid agony seeping into me. It was excruciating, but I refused to pull my arm out: I couldn't stop embracing the sensation of the heat speeding into me. It was so warm... I couldn't do anything but close my eyes, since my head had already tilted back. By that point, I didn't really care about losing my life, or even about the flames running up my arm, spreading to my torso, my legs.

I wanted, needed, the warmth.

So, letting out a breath of relief, I slowly leaned closer to the fire.

And, then, somehow... a shadow exploded out of it and I found myself falling. I don't know how, but I literally fell into the flames and went through them, falling into a deafening abyss made of burning orange and white. Below me, the endless flames expanded into a circular gateway, the shadow pulling me in finally dropped me in a dark room. The ground beneath me was pitch black and I couldn't hear the heater anymore: the only sound that met my ears was the crackling of a nearby fire.

Then my eyes adjusted, and I blinked in a dazed manner: I was outdoors, but the sky above me looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. The sky was pitch black, with violet-tinted splotches of nebulae and flickering stars: all around were dead trees, and beneath me was an enormous piece of concrete which was doing nothing but floating in the emptiness of the void.

I wasn't at the foster home anymore... however, I was so warm that I wasn't even shivering, so it was all good. After closing my eyes, I let myself bask in the feeling I had almost forgotten... the feeling of heat radiating from my body... but then, I heard the sound of roaring flames and glanced up to see myself surrounded by a circle of fire with only one opening.

And yet, I couldn't bring myself to care. I was warm.

It was only at the last second that I noticed a cloaked figure standing at the opening of the fire. The firelight was dancing across the little expanse of pale skin that I could see, and it's four blood-red eyes seemed to emanate a light of their own. It was looking at me, but It didn't seem to be hostile, so I didn't really care. I stared, bored, as it slowly glided over and held out a hand to help me up. I shook my head. It didn't matter to me whether I was sitting or standing, but I didn't feel like moving, even with its assistance.

"I'm good," I stated simply, looking at the ground with half-lidded eyes. "So good..."

Not taking no for an answer, it legitimately dragged me up.

When my wrist was caught in its pale hand, I noticed that my arm was ablaze.

I blinked rapidly at the startling sight before looking down at my body in curiosity, noting that I was completely encased in flames... and yet, it didn't hurt at all, so I was probably dreaming. Either way, I didn't really care: I was warm, and the heat was melting the ice inside me. After a moment of examining my features with glowing red eyes, the hooded being began talking in a raspy, projecting voice. I still wasn't sure if it was a male or a female: gender shouldn't be judged on voices, or even appearances.

Especially since people usually mistake me for a guy, despite having relatively long hair.

"You entered my domain seeking warmth," the hooded creature rasped, staring at me with brightly glowing eyes. "How did you get in here?"

_How the hell should I know?_ I wondered, not really knowing how to respond; truthfully, I didn't even know what was going on. _It's not like I did it on purpose._

"There are only two ways in here: a meditation mirror, and fire," the hooded figure hissed, making me blink. "How did you get in here?"

"Fire," I sleepily retorted, swaying back and forth as the tingles swept through me. "I touched a fire... and now I'm warm."

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!" the creature in red roared, somehow extending its height until it towered over me. "HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY DOMAIN?!"

"I don't know," I stated sleepily, staring up at the creature with a tired demeanor. "All I really wanted was to be warm... so I tried to touch a fire, and then... here I was."

"That isn't possible," another voice called, making me blink and slowly turn my head; a figure wearing a yellow cloak and circular glasses was standing at the edge of the fire ring and staring right at me with stern violet eyes. "Only those who have a demon's blood running through them can access places like these through the fire gates. And even then, those who _can use _fire gates aren't stupid enough to try coming _here."_

"I'm not a demon," I scoffed, actually cracking an amused grin; I mean, who could blame me? It was absurd. "I'm really not anything like that. Honest. All I did was touch the fire: something pulled me, and I ended up falling through it to this place, wherever the hell it is."

"How did you get here?" the yellow figure asked, gliding around the fire without taking its eyes off of me. "Do you remember?"

"I was cold... I'm always so cold that it shakes my body, so I kind of got tired of it," I explained, tilting my head around and around like a girl trying to sun herself on a beach. "I did something stupid and stuck my hand in a fire, just for the sake of feeling warm for once, but when I started burning... a type of shadow caught me and I fell through the fire. I landed here, saw that hooded thing, and here we are. End of story."

"Cold...?" the yellow figure wondered aloud, seeming to be pondering something; however, after a moment, its eyes popped open wide and it looked at me with a startled expression. "That sounds too familiar. Are you Hell-Touched?"

"Hell-touched?" I asked, quirking a thick eyebrow in confusion. "What's that?"

"When a mortal dies and is brought back by a higher power," the yellow-clad figure rasped, pushing its spectacles up its unseen nose, "they are no longer human. They become what we call Hell-touched or Heaven-touched. It is believed that the force that killed them becomes their greatest strength after they've been reborn... are you one of those beings?"

"Uh, no?" I uncertainly proffered, frowning at the figure. "Not that I know of."

"Lies," the figure in red hissed, making me turn. "I can sense the power radiating from her. The flames enshrouding her are also proof."

_Wait, power?_ I wondered, feeling kind of dazed. _So, these things are trying to say I'm a superhero...?_

"How you use your abilities is your choice," the yellow figure answered, speaking as if it had read my mind; then, its eyelid twitched, possibly with a hint of annoyance. "Please stop referring to me as 'it'. I am a woman."

Yup, it was definitely annoyed.

It was mad.

BOTH were mad.

They glared at me, anger crossing their pale mouths.

_Huh, how come I can't read their thoughts?_ I wondered idly; their eyes twitched again in synchronicity. _Hey, if you can hear me, it's an honest question._

So saying, I decided to walk around the red figure in an attempt to leave. The foster home had to be somewhere, so I'd get there eventually. However, the fire moved to close the opening it had walked through. I mentally shrugged and lifted my foot, but something dark shot out of the red figure's cloak and ensnared my shoulders without warning.

"Those flames may not burn you," it hissed, glaring at me, "but this is _our_ realm. Even at your best, we will be stronger than you."

"Aren't you nice?" I trilled sarcastically.

"We don't want to hurt you," the yellow figure stated firmly, "but we will if we have to."

"Yes," I agreed, staring at her with an emotionless visage. "After all, violence solves everything."

Before I could speak another word, I heard a ringing sound and turned my head to spot a wave of shadow flying at me.

When it touched me, I twitched and found myself staring at the fire in the kitchen. Miss Figgins was puttering around in her apron, and the smell of cooking food had filled the room. I had fallen asleep like I'd thought, but man, that had been one hell of a weird dream. After a moment, however, I realized that I was no longer shivering... but surely, the iciness was coming back. I waited, not bothering to open my eyes again. Sleepiness still plagued me. I didn't want to get up from the kitchen floor... plus, my laziness didn't help. The sound of Miss Figgins humming as she cooked was a gentle reminder of the family I'd lost, and it lulled me. Peace. After a moment, I cracked my first smile since the disaster.

The cold was back, but at least I knew there was one place that could make me feel warm.

The dream land with the odd hooded figures.


	2. Chapter 1: Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore'

**Chapter One: Quath the raven, 'Nevermore!'**

"Crackhead! Psst! Crackhead! Can I get a fix?" Jareth Malham—captain of Murakami's football team and royal pain in the ass—exclaimed in an overly loud whisper. "Actually, never mind: I don't think I'd ever want to be a twitch-case like you!"

All of the boys and most of the girls in the room burst into laughter upon hearing Jareth's latest mockery of me, as per usual.

I'd often wondered if they'd cut back on the insults if I actually stood up for myself, but that involved wasting breath and energy that I could be using for other things, such as trying to get warm. I'd never willingly spoken to anyone other than the teachers, anyway, and even when I was called on I only gave them a curt, one or two-worded response.

Everyone at school called me Crackhead or Curly because of my shivers or my hair. Rumors about me had been passed around since I'd transferred, but most of it was simply utter nonsense: for instance, there was a rumor that I stood on a street corner after school, either prostituting or selling drugs. Oh, and there was also one about how I was a witch because I never spoke, and even my family had abandoned me in the woods to die. Right, and let's not forget the one about how my mother might have dropped me on my head and that's how I ended up shivering all the time.

Tch, that was the most unlikely.

However, on that particular day I was extremely edgy from the cold, so Jareth's mocking set me off.

So, in an almost irresistible desire to shut him up for once, I finally decided to see what would happen if I actually fired back a retort.

"No, Jareth, if you're looking for a fix you should try looking somewhere else," I said smoothly, cocking my hip and flicking my curly bangs out of my eyes. "Did you happen to see my football lying anywhere around here, though? Oh, wait a minute… never mind. I don't have one because I refused to become a moron."

The laughter died immediately and the room instantly became silent as a few jaws dropped open in surprise. My lips twitched in amusement when I realized that most of the shock had been caused more by the fact that I'd spoken than the fact that I'd just insulted the captain of the football team. Jareth cocked an arrogant eyebrow and strode up to me without fear.

"What did you say to me, twerp?" he demanded.

Even though he was nearly three feet taller than me, I stood my ground and met his gaze evenly.

"See? I rest my case!" I replied, rolling my eyes sarcastically before I looked at him again. "Long story short, I said you're stupid. Did you get it this time?"

"Are you calling me stupid?" Jareth demanded, expression darkening with anger.

"Uh, duh?" I huffed, cocking my head to the side and looking at him curiously. "Are you deaf or something? Or is it simply the fact that you have an IQ percentage of seventy-five that's rendering you incapable of understanding what I'm saying?"

"If you weren't a girl, I'd have busted your mouth in for an insult like that," Jareth snapped, ears turning red. "You'd better watch how you talk to me from now on: I'll have some of my lady friends kick your ass if you're not careful around me."

"Oh, is that so?" I inquired, cocking an amused eyebrow before I sadly shook my head. "So, you're actually a sexist as well as a sadistic idiot? You need to get a girl to fight me because you can't fight me by yourself? Hah! I guess it figures: almost all of you football fanatics are morons, but you're the captain of them, so I should have expected nothing less."

Jareth's face turned crimson and his neck bulged in anger.

"Are you challenging me to a fight?" he hissed. "Fighting a pipsqueak like you would be a piece of cake."

Every single pair of eyes in the room remained locked onto my face in shock as I shrugged.

"Sorry, but I don't fight losers," I stated in a bored tone of voice, keeping my face completely and utterly blank. "Back in Oklahoma, I won fifty-three MMA competitions in a row because people underestimated me. If you think you're strong enough to beat me, bring it on right here and now. I won't hesitate to put you in the hospital. If you're just talking shit, take this somewhere else: either way, you're boring me to death."

When his eyes widened and he backed off a step, I rubbed my shivering arms and sighed before stalking over to my desk in the back of the room.

Then I sat down and started looking out the window.

However, he had irritated me... it was kind of funny that the weather was starting to match my mood.

Rain always made me feel... wait... what? It NEVER rained in this part of California!

"What the hell?" I asked, stiffening in surprise and standing up so abruptly that everyone jumped; they still weren't over the shock I'd given them minutes earlier, even if I already was. "Whoa! No way! Hey, everyone, look! It's raining! It's raining outside!"

My classmates instantly looked out the window, but eyes widened all around when they saw that it was true: everyone instantly hurried over to the window and pressed their noses against the glass, including me, since the clouds were slowly forming out of nothing. Or, at least, that's what it looked like to me... and as odd as it's going to sound, they really did start matching my mood.

It was almost laughable.

"Hello everyone!" our teacher, Mr. Crawford, called, shaking his bag free of water as he hurried inside the classroom. "Sorry I'm late! Wonderful weather, right? Okay, okay, yes, it's raining, but you should all take your seats and open your world history books to page seventy-five. We're going over the report on African culture day after tomorrow and I want to be sure that you're well prepared."

Everyone instantly sat down, but I lingered by the window longer than I should have.

My shoulders felt weaker and weaker the longer I stared at the clouds: I had fallen into a daze, and because of it, the shivers had started fading somehow.

However, after a moment, I shook myself free of my stupor since Mr. Crawford expectantly cleared his throat.

Then, class began.

Sadly, though, the weather only worsened as time went on. It rained harder, and harder, and then... finally...

A flash.

Then...

_BOOOOOOOM!_

Every girl in the room aside from myself jumped with a startled scream, and even a few of the boys yelped; I, on the other hand, merely stared out the window with a slack jaw. I mean, seriously, it was unbelievable: lightning in Jump City, California? Get real! Anyone would have laughed! But there it was: thunder and lightning.

"Wow," I deadpanned, leaning away from the window and squinting when another bolt ripped through the sky and thunder roared across the metropolis like a mighty lion. "Whew, it's storming pretty good out there. Weird. Isn't California supposed to have, like, no severe thunderstorms?"

The girl sitting next to me opened her mouth to say something, but another blue flash exploded not too far away from the school. Several girls shrieked and ducked when the windows of Murakami Academy's trigonometry classroom rattled in their frames. I, on the other hand, froze in awe: the lightning didn't scare me at all... truthfully, I found it to be utterly fascinating. Right around that moment, the principle's voice came through the speakers.

"All teachers are to report to the conference room right away," the old woman stated. "Students, please remain seated until your teacher returns. That is all."

"Oh, dear, that doesn't sound good," Mr. Crawford muttered, worriedly looking at all of us. "All right, behave yourselves while I'm gone. I'll be back soon."

So saying, he hurried out of the room and swept down the hall at a brisk pace.

"I wonder what's going on?" a girl sitting not to far away whispered. "It's kinda unusual."

"Maybe we're about to have a drill, or maybe someone broke into the school again," another girl replied. "Remember that green kid? He started harassing Sarah because she looked like some girl he used to know!"

"It's not like that," a blonde girl sitting not even two rows away sighed, staring at her desk. "He just had the wrong girl, that's all... I'm really not Terra."

"Duh, we've known you practically all your life," a dark-skinned girl sitting beside her chuckled. "Ever since you got adopted."

I tuned them out after a moment, wishing I could go into the little dreamland with the creepy hooded figures.

Nearly a week had passed since I'd entered the weird dreamland through the fireplace, but that hadn't stopped me from trying to get back.

Sadly, my fingers were wrapped up in gauze since it hadn't exactly worked a second time.

Even now, I was cold... but the sight of the unexpected storm was doing wonders with helping me forget how badly I was shivering.

"Okay guys, settle down," Mr. Crawford called, walking back into the room with a nervous expression. "I know it's unusual, but today we're going to be ending classes earlier than normal due to some unexpected weather patterns forming moving our way from the east of the county. We've already started calling your parents, so there's no need to worry. Those of you who walk will be riding the bus today, so go get your things."

Worried conversation immediately started among the students since we hadn't even hit lunch yet.

However, I... being ever the antisocial inquisitor... decided to ask the big winner.

"What kind of weather patterns?" I carefully inquired, staring at him with emotionless eyes when he froze. "You said unexpected... didn't you?"

"It's nothing you should worry about, Miss Rossetti," he stated calmly, making me scowl; I didn't want people to use my last name. "Go get your things."

"I already have them, since I'm a rule breaker," I drawled, lifting my bag up before turning to look out the window. While everyone was scrambling to get their things from their lockers, however, my eyes became fixated on the clouds. They were dark... and they seemed to be frothing a lot. The weirdest part? Even though I'd never once seen clouds like that, they looked familiar. "Huh... it's like a memory from a dream. Weird."

Without even realizing it, however, my eyes started skimming across the clouds in a circular manner: slowly, they flicked around... and around... and around... and before I knew what was happening, my mind started glazing over. My pupils were slowly obscured with a rippling blue haze that spread across my vision, but before I could figure out what was happening to my eyesight, someone touched my shoulder and I blinked.

The haze in my eyes instantly vanished the moment my focus was torn from the clouds.

"Hey," Sarah, the girl with pale blonde hair, murmured; she was staring at me with nervous blue eyes. "Um, my parents are out of town right now, and since... well, you know, all this weather stuff is going on... do you want to come over to my place?"

I stared at her for a full ten seconds, not comprehending her offer.

"Uh, I can't," I drawled, looking around to find that everyone aside from the teacher had already left for the gym. "I have to go back to the foster home. Miss Figgins will worry if I don't."

"See, that's the thing," the blonde girl sighed, awkwardly rubbing her arm before she gestured for someone standing near the door to come in; a small girl with frizzy red hair, mountains of freckles, and brilliant green eyes instantly shuffled over with hesitant movements. "This girl is from the same orphanage that you live in, and since... well, since nobody's coming to get you guys, she figured it'd be smarter to invite you to come, too."

I stared at her even harder, not really processing what she was saying.

"What do you mean nobody's coming?" I deadpanned, gazing into her pale blue eyes without blinking. "Miss Figgins has her own car, and the orphanage itself has six vans for emergencies. They're completely capable of driving."

"Miss Figgins and the head matron had to take Little Aggie to the hospital," the redhead nervously chirped, huddling down when I glanced at her. "And since Miss Rosemary is legally blind, she can't drive the vans. We'll be stuck here until after the gates close if we wait, and walking outside isn't a good idea."

As if a higher power were underlining that last statement, a bolt of lightning lanced a tree not too far away from the school. The blue reflected in my eyes when I slowly turned my head: my hair was standing up all over my body, and I could feel the charge.

Which was basically a big sign that the bolt had been dangerously close to the building.

"Yeah, probably not a good idea to walk out in that," I sighed, looking at the clouds once again. "It's beautiful, but I'm not that stupid."

"I've already told Mister Crawford," the blonde girl murmured, giving a little shrug before she straightened her thigh-length skirt. "You're more than welcome to come wait at my place. There's plenty of room."

"Do you have a heater?" I asked, making her blink in startled confusion; she instantly cocked her head and frowned. "I mean, a portable one?"

"Uh, yeah..." she murmured, looking seriously perplexed. "We also have a fireplace, but we never use it because it's always warm in Jump City."

"Can _I_ use them?" I asked, lifting my arms and rubbing myself with glazed teal eyes. "I can't go unless you say yes. I swear to God, I'll freeze to death."

"Um, sure, I guess," the blonde girl sighed, accepting my weirdness despite her baffled demeanor; then she held out her hand. "I'm Sarah Markov Collins. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Sally Beth," I murmured, shaking her hand; she blinked when she noticed my shivering, but to her credit, she said nothing. "No last name."

"Well, I'm Amber McKlaren," the redhead timidly piped up, lifting a small hand and looking at the two of us with shy eyes. "Just in case you wanted to know..."

Another flash from the windows made the two girls flinch, but I didn't even bat an eyelash: the sky didn't scare me for some reason.

In fact, it made me feel calmer, weird as it probably sounds.

"I think we should get going now," Sarah muttered, glancing out the window with nervous eyes. "Those clouds don't look good."

When the two girls made for the hall, I was a bit slower to follow.

Especially when we went outside and made our way towards the buses.

When my hair started rising, I glanced up almost instinctively: then, as if I were accepting a gift from the clouds, I raised my hands.

And lightning flashed out of the sky, sending me falling once again through the portal of fire and straight into... a flowery pink garden?

"Huh?" I wondered, staring at everything in bliss; I was warm again... blessedly warm. "Well, if this place is heaven, I think I could be happy for eternity."

A fit of cheerful giggling immediately broke out, catching my attention: I tilted my head back to find myself staring into the face of the most pale girl I'd ever seen. She had large, beautiful violet eyes and a dark bob-cut with an odd blue sheen to it: her smile was vivid, and she was wearing a pink cloak. My eyes flitted to her forehead, where a small diamond-like bead had been embedded onto her skin.

"Hello!" she cheerfully greeted, making me blink at her. "How'd you get here?"

"Got hit by a bolt of lightning on my way out of the schoolyard and fell through a portal made of fire," I explained, giving her a shrug when she gasped and stared at me in awe. "I really don't know, but this place is so warm that I really don't even care. Plus, it's smells good here."

The smile was instantly back in place and a fit of gleeful giggles overtook the pink-wearing beauty.

"Beast Boy once said that this smells like the land where Air Freshener's are from," she giggled, wriggling around in delight. "I'm glad you like my domain!"

_Domain?_ I wondered, scratching my head as two more hooded figures came to mind. _Eh? That's weird... weren't they yellow and red?_

"Oh, that was Rage and Knowledge," the girl giggled, making me stare at her. "They're nice, so don't worry!"

"Whoa! Happy, who is that?!" another voice exclaimed, making me look around; I blinked and stared with somewhat larger eyes as another girl wearing a green cloak rippled out of nothingness and started walking towards us. Then I gasped, because she levitated off the ground and flew towards us like a wraith: when she leaned in close to my face, I stared at her feet with enormous eyes. "Huuuh! Curly brown hair, big eyes, great complexion! Yep! Uh-huh! I know exactly who this lady is!"

"Who?" Happy cheerfully giggled. "Who is she?"

"A stranger!" the green-clad person bellowed, thrusting her finger out in triumph. "She is a stranger!"

When I gave her a half-lidded look of total disbelief, the pink-clad girl started laughing hysterically and the green-clad girl took her hood off.

Which led to yet another double-take since the two of them looked completely identical.

"Whoa," I muttered, staring at them in confusion. "Are you two twins or something?!"

Before they could respond, more figures rippled out of nothing, led by the familiar yellow figure wearing glasses.

"So, you've returned," the glass-wearing figure murmured, making me blink. "What are you planning?"

"Y-y-yeah!" a figure in a grey cloak stammered. "We've already alerted R-Raven to the fact that something is wrong, s-s-so the... the j-j-j-jig is up!"

"Just you wait," the red-clad figure hissed, smiling in a devilish manner. "When she gets here, you'll be destroyed."

"Um, could I ask you something?" I asked, shaking my head in bewilderment. "What the hell is going on around here, and where the heck am I? And who is Raven?"

"I am," a monotonous voice stated in a dangerous tone, making me freeze; when my legs were unexpectedly engulfed in a black shadow that looked like a giant hand, a ringing sensation filled the air and I let out a shriek. Then I was literally dragged into the air and held upside down. "Who are you?"

"Um..." I stammered, not able to see anything. "Well, my name is Sa..."

Before anything else could be said, a jolt of shadow sent me flying through another wormhole made of fire.

When I twitched, I suddenly found myself staring at the sky I had been looking at before the lightning had come down.

My hands were still raised and I was still staring at the frothing clouds.

"Sally, come on! Hurry!" Sarah called, waving at me from the bus door: everyone had already gotten on, and I was soaked. My pleated blue skirt and white dress shirt were literally dripping with water, and my hair was hanging in heavy curls down to my waist. "You're getting wet! Come ON!"

"Sorry!" I croaked, shivering violently as the cold returned with a flash; I practically died on the spot, since it seeped through me like ice through water. "I'm c-c-c-c-coming!"

Thus, I got on the bus, not really knowing that the storm forming overhead would soon alter my future forever.

Just like the one last year.


End file.
